Bend the Bracket
by Raivis-Latvijas
Summary: After an intense argument between Croatia and Serbia, Slovenia tried to give the latter of the two some advice. The advice, absurd and sparking more arguments, was taken. It bent the bracket for years before the collapse of Yugoslavia.


**A/N: **This story was inspired by the song "Bend the Bracket" by Chevelle. Great song. Hopefully a great story.

It's mainly SerbiaxCroatia, set some time post-World War II, but before the fundamental reforms of Yugoslavia in the 1950s. Around this time in history, in my headcanon the Balkan nations would look to be in their late teens and early twenties, compared to in modern time mid-twenties to early thirties. Except for Kosovo; in this story he looks to be in his mid-teens, compared to in modern day his late teens.

It's rated T for quite a bit of swearing. And by quite a bit, I mean a lot.

Enjoy this most likely historically-inaccurate story.

**Xxx**

"What the hell have I ever done wrong to deserve this?" A raspy voice shouted, fueling an argument that had been lasting far too long.

"You decided to be a god damned Socialist; that's what you've done wrong! I will never correlate myself with something like that!" The second of the two arguers yelled back, voice strong and low.

"You were a fucking Nazi! What the hell was that?"

"I was not a Nazi! How could you say something like that?"

"Yes you were, you Croatian son of a bitch! What the hell was all that Ustaše shit?"

"I couldn't control that! You know that, you stupid Chetnik!"

"You were a puppet of Germany's desires for ethnic cleansing, but you mainly targeted Serbs! What the fuck was that?"

"I did not control my people, nor the people whom were occupying my nation! Why the hell can't you understand that?"

"You know that you've fucked up way worse than I have and have suffered no repercussions for it!"

"Fucking Vlach, I'm getting the hell out of here! You speak of nothing but bullshit and hate!"

"Fine then! Leave; you know you'll be crawling back for comfort when you realize that you've got nowhere to go!"

A door slamming rattled the walls of the house in which the nations under the name Yugoslavia resided. Silence ensued for a few moments, before a loud thud against a wall was heard, followed by what was either a groan of pain, or a groan of despair.

"Slovenia!" The remaining arguer called for the only female in the house.

"What, Serbia?" The slightly hostile brunette nation responded, approaching the living room of the house, where Serbia was.

"I think I may have hurt my hand this time." Serbia grumbled as he sat on the couch, cradling his slightly deformed left hand in his right.

"You should really stop punching the walls. It seems that every time you and Croatia get into an argument you end up hitting the wall and hurting yourself." Slovenia said as she made the man present his hand so that she could inspect it. She had some medical knowledge; not much, but more than any of the other nations in the house.

"What the hell else am I supposed to do to vent my stress? Honestly, Pavla. I don't want to have to hurt him. I don't want to have to hurt anyone."

"You're lucky _I_ don't hurt _you_ after what you said to him. Seriously, Serbia. You called him a Nazi. You know better than to call him that; he was not in control of anything during the war."

"He was asking for it, that fucking Croat…"

"That's enough of that, Serbia. The argument is over."

Serbia sighed heavily. "So what is the verdict on my hand?"

"You most likely broke a bone or two. There's a brace and some bandages in the bathroom upstairs. You should know what to do, if you aren't a complete moron."

"Why the hell are you calling me a moron?"

"Because you're stupid enough to keep arguing about the same things day after day with Croatia. And then when he comes back later, you say you feel bad, then you make-up with him, sleep off the dwelling anger, get up, go to your meetings, come home, argue, watch him leave, call for me because you hurt yourself, and repeat the process. Even Macedonia is getting tired of you two arguing. And as you know, he's not bothered very easily. But things between you and Croatia are getting completely out of hand. Something is going to break horribly before long, and it's not going to be your hand."

"Then what would it be?"

"Your heart, you idiotic Serb. You love him, and it's fairly obvious. He loves you, but he's losing that feeling. You need to fix things permanently. Not just temporarily like you have been doing."

"How the hell am I supposed to do that?"

"You show him that you love him, and don't want to let go of him."

"Are you supposing that I propose _marriage _to that man?"

"It's possible."

"Is that even allowed? I mean… We're nations. Would our governments allow marriage between two representations?"

"Austria and Hungary were married, correct?"

"Well, yes. But they were one nation. They were Austria-Hungary. In this case, Croatia and I are two separate nations in Yugoslavia. How would that work?"

"I just say give it a shot. It's the best way I can think of to repair your relationship, and hold it together."

"… Alright… I'll… I'll see what I can do."

"Good. Now go on upstairs and fix up your hand. And don't go punching any walls anymore."

Serbia sighed and nodded, heading to his destination to bandage up his hand and put the brace on. Being a nation, his hand would heal properly within a day or two; so he didn't have to worry about the bones being out of place for too long.

Meanwhile, Slovenia went outside to the back patio, where Macedonia and Montenegro were sitting at a medium-sized round table.

"Was it about the same stuff as usual?" The brown-haired Montenegro questioned as Slovenia sat down at the table with a heavy sigh.

"Serbia went as far as calling Croatia a Nazi." She responded.

"Damn. That's what you never want to call a guy like him. How'd he react?" Macedonia probed.

"Called him a Chetnik, then a Vlach, and then left."

"This was a pretty serious argument then, wasn't it?" Montenegro inquired

"This was one of the more major ones, yes."

"What was that loud bang after the door slammed?"

"Serbia punched the wall."

"He break his hand?" Macedonia sounded a bit hopeful.

"Most likely. But, like every one of us representations, he'll heal quickly."

"That shkije needs to calm the hell down…" A new voice caught the attention of the three on the paitio.

"Kosovo? I thought you were confined to… You know what? Never mind." Macedonia said.

Kosovo took a seat in the only open chair around the table and let out a sigh of frustration.

"I don't understand why he keeps doing all of this." He grumbled.

"None of us do. You were talking with him for quite some time, Pavla." Montenegro looked to Slovenia. "What were you saying?"

"Just told him to fix up his hand and gave him some advice."

"What advice?"

"Well… I'd rather not disclose that information just yet. It'll become fairly obvious soon, if all goes as planned. Or if it doesn't. If the advice fails, there will probably be an argument. If it doesn't, the two probably won't argue again for quite some time. Either way, you guys will find out."

"I know what it was." Another voice came from the doorway, indicating that another nation had joined the conversation. It was a low, quiet voice, which was hardly ever heard. It came from the ever-so-silent Bosnia, whom took a place leaning against the railing that bordered the edges of the patio.

"What was it?" Macedonia asked, looking to the tall brunet.

"Marriage."

The three whom didn't know the advice were stunned.

"You're kidding, right? You know that'll never work out." Macedonia looked to Slovenia, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, sometimes we have to bend the bracket."

"What the hell do you mean by that?"

"We have to try to do something near impossible to try to fix something."

"This is going to strike up a war; just watch. And we'll get pulled into it."

"I doubt it." Montenegro commented.

"We've been pulled into every other war that we've wanted no part of. Why the hell wouldn't we be pulled into the next one?"

"I'm just hoping things start to calm down and hostilities ease off. Another war would be traumatic to all of us, after what happened in World War II and all."

"What the hell was up with Croatia during the war? He wouldn't talk to us at all."

"He was probably ashamed of what was going on with the Ustaše in his nation. He was also a puppet state of Nazi Germany. He couldn't do much against it; he didn't want his people to die like everyone else was." Slovenia said.

"But he didn't even try to influence them. He didn't even try. That's so unlike him to do."

"They wouldn't have listened."

"Well… You have a point. No one really listens to us representations."

"No one ever will. We don't really have any jurisdiction with our government, or our people. We just represent them. We feel their pain, their happiness, their pride; and sometimes even fight alongside them. I know Serbia did back in World War I. He fought in the Battle of Cer."

"Can we get off the subject of that shkije?" Kosovo spoke up.

"You are really hostile today, aren't you?"

"He's gone far enough with everything he's done. I'm at my breaking point, and I'm not even a nation. I'm part of him…" The brunet Kosovan grumbled.

"We're all at our breaking points in some way or another." Montenegro said.

"We can't just allow him to keep us held down like this forever, can we?"

"What if we try to work with him…?" Bosnia questioned.

"That's impossible." Macedonia said.

"No it's not. I just tried working with him, and we came up with a plan to stop the hostilities between him and Croatia." Slovenia stated.

"But will the plan work?" Bosnia asked, now second guessing his own methods.

"We won't know until we try."

"Do you think Serbia has the guts to do that after all he's said and done? Not just to Croatia, but to all of us? He's not exactly the smartest man around, you know." Macedonia spoke.

"And you are?" Bosnia uttered, raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up, damn Bosnian… One time you do talk, you decide to challenge my intelligence…"

"I was just saying… You're awfully hostile, Macedonia…"

"I'm always fucking hostile. When I live with all of you, I'm bound to be angered easily; especially with Serbia and Croatia constantly arguing. It's just not what I want to be around. Understand what I'm saying?"

"Now what's so bad about the rest of us?" Montenegro questioned, brow furrowed.

"No one will take a stand and tell them to shut the fuck up and just deal with what's going on! I haven't told them because I'm in no condition to be getting into any fights with those two. I'm already looked down upon enough in this world."

"You think we haven't tried? Slovenia just talked with Serbia!"

"Enough; all of us just need to relax! So what if we're all a bit hostile towards each other. Let's just focus on what is needed to be done at this moment, instead of arguing about the past." Slovenia cut in before things could get too heated.

"She's right." Bosnia agreed.

"I'm going inside; fuck you guys…" Macedonia retorted, doing what he said and heading inside.

Montenegro let out a heavy sigh. "He'll be like this fifty years from now. I guarantee it."

"Don't you two usually get along alright? That's the first time I've ever seen you two start to argue." Slovenia apprised.

"He just gets more and more hostile each day, I swear… I've tried to talk to him, but he just brushes it off modestly and goes back to doing his mathematics…."

"I'm surprised he hasn't learned how to articulate himself in a non-violent sounding way. I know he's intelligent. He just refuses to show it."

"Exactly… Looks like Serbia and Croatia aren't the only two that need some sort of admonishment."

"Let's just focus on Serbia and Croatia now, and then we'll try to get Macedonia to straighten out."

"Sounds like a plan… But how long is it going to take to get Serbia and Croatia to stop being so hostile? Honestly, I don't think it'll ever stop. This has been going on for years."

"We'll just have to wait and see…"

**Xxx**

Boredom is so entertaining, isn't it? I managed to get this story finished between time I had at home, and time I had during my 4th period study hall in school.

Ah, by the way, before I forget to tell you; please head to my profile and vote on the poll to determine what genre my next multi-chapter story is going to be. It would help a lot. I've already got a pairing decided (one of the people whom voted "other" on my previous poll gave me a pairing that I simply could not pass up), which I'm waiting to reveal. The first chapter of my new story will reveal the genre, the pairing, and some side-pairings (which will be determined by the other pairing in the poll that don't make it to the top spot).


End file.
